Sanchez nodded. “Scared of course. But okay physically.” They were headed down the lane toward the entrance, Sanchez in the lead prodding Reid ahead of him. The other four supported each other, Larry the only one who could walk normally. As they neared the front of the yard, reflections from the red and blue light bars painted the old derelicts along the path with an other-worldly aspect.
They rounded the corner of the lane. Sheriff Bonnaman leaned against one patrol car, arms crossed. Frannie could see a woman’s head in the back seat. The back door of another car was open and Taylor Trats sat in the back seat cocooned in a brown fleece blanket. A deputy crouched by the open door talking to the Trats girl.
As they approached the cars, a fresh wave of fear crossed Taylor’s face when she recognized them. Sanchez escorted Reid to the other side of the sheriff’s car, put his hand firmly on the back of Reid’s head and pushed it down as he guided him into the cruiser. Another deputy moved around to that side of the car, standing guard while Sanchez walked over to Taylor Trats.
“These are the people who found you, Taylor,” he told her.
Now she looked confused. “But—,” she started and then stopped, looking from one to the other.
“I talked to your mother, Taylor,” Frannie told her. “She wanted us to help find you. We’re very sorry about all of this but so glad you are all right.”
“Let’s get going,” Sanchez said. “It doesn’t look like your truck is going anywhere right now. I’ll arrange for a tow truck. Do you want to wait for it or go back to the campground now?”
Frannie felt a moment of surprise. She had forgotten about the truck and was even trying to remember where they parked it.
“I think we all need to get back to the campground,” Larry said. “Where will they take my truck?”
“Maybe I’ll have the sheriff or one of his deputies handle it. They’ll know who to call and then they can let you know.” He raised his hand to signal the sheriff, who was just about to pull out of the junkyard. After loping over and making his request, he returned to the group.
“You can all ride back with Deputy Dawd.” He indicated a tall, skinny middle-aged man in uniform by the third cruiser.
Mickey’s mouth dropped open. “Did you say Deputy Dawg?”
“Dawd—with a D,” Sanchez said.
“I get that a lot,” Dawd said, “but just from older people.”
“Gotcha!” Larry said to Mickey. And to Dawd, “Thanks for the lift. We’ll try and keep Mickey under control.”
Sanchez got in his car and started the engine. Larry got in the front seat of the next cruiser with Dawd, and the others climbed in the back seat. When everyone was buckled in, Dawd backed his cruiser around into the junkyard driveway and followed Sanchez back down the dirt road.
They rode in silence at first and soon arrived at the turn onto Williams Avenue, the gravel road that led to the back entrance to the park.
Turning in the passenger seat, Larry broke the silence. “I’m dying to know...Frannie, what did you do to Mickey?”
“Well,” she looked at Mickey and Jane Ann, “we knew Reid had a knife and when I saw Reid from behind, the way he was holding Jane Ann, I realized he must have his knife at her throat. I couldn’t tell for sure but I didn’t dare do anything to him. I decided to use a little of his own misdirection against him instead. I went around the other end of the old van they were next to and head-butted Mickey instead.” She grinned at them all. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
Larry looked at her and started to laugh. “Oh, man, wish we had that on film! That’s crazy.”
“It worked,” Frannie said defensively. “Reid didn’t know what to think and took the knife away from Jane Ann’s neck just long enough for her to do him in—so to speak. Maybe he thought I was Maddie Sloan for a second—I don’t know.”
“Hey, I helped,” Mickey protested, as Dawd turned the squad car into the park entrance.
“It was definitely a team effort,” Jane Ann said smugly, “and we did it all without Mr. Cop.” She reached up and patted Larry on the shoulder. “No offense, bro!”
Larry smiled. “I quit being offended by you when I was two, Sis. Otherwise I wouldn’t be the well-adjusted contributing member of society that I am.”
“I wasn’t even born yet when you were two.”
“See? Just proves how well-adjusted I am.”
“Doesn’t anyone care that I’m the one who had to take a hit to pull this all off?” Mickey complained.
“No,” they said in unison, and then laughed, Mickey included.
“I appreciate that you were there to be the ‘fall guy,’” Frannie told him with a smirk.
Dawd was just shaking his head. “Wow, I take back my crack about being old,” was all he could say.
“Oh, we’re old, all right,” Mickey said. “We feel it big time.”
They were all quiet again as the road wound down through the little valley of the Bluffs River, across a bridge, and climbed back up toward the campground. Complete dark engulfed them under the trees, reminding them of the terror they had all felt in the junkyard.
When they reached the campground entrance, they caught up with Sanchez’ cruiser. He had pulled in at the Ranger’s residence and gathered around the car were Ranger Sommers, Mrs. Trats, one of the sheriff’s deputies and Sanchez. Lights blazed from every window of the little ranch house and spilled over the group in the driveway.
Dawd continued into the campground. Larry directed him to their loop.
“Agent Sanchez will want to talk to you when he finishes with Mrs. Trats,” Dawd said.
“We aren’t going anywhere—thank goodness,” Larry told him.
By the time they emerged from the deputy’s car, each of them was beginning to feel the effects of their exertions. They stretched and thanked the deputy; then headed to their campfire. Mickey stirred the dying coals and threw a couple of logs on. They sank into chairs and scooted closer to the flickering promise of warmth.
“What a relief that Taylor is okay. What do you suppose they were going to do with her?” Frannie said.
“Not sure I want to know,” Jane Ann said. “They must have had plans, or else why keep her alive?”
“But why even stay around?” Mickey said. “If they had taken off, she might have never been found.”
“Reid had several appearances scheduled,” Larry pointed out. “If he had disappeared before those were finished, there would have been an immediate manhunt for him.”
Frannie agreed. “He couldn’t break his routine.”
“What time is it,” Jane Ann asked. “About 3:00 a.m.?”
“9:40,” Larry told her.
Headlights appeared along the campground road and Sanchez’ car pulled in. He got out, brushing the falling hair off his forehead, and opened the back door for his passengers. Mrs. Trats got out and Taylor slid out behind her, clinging to her mother’s coat.
Larry hesitated, hanging back by the fire, but Frannie walked toward them. Mrs. Trats stood by the car, her arm around Taylor, who was still wrapped in the fleece blanket.
“How can I thank you?” she said.
Frannie grinned. “Not really necessary. Maybe just explain to Taylor that my husband is not a Blue Coyote?”
Mrs. Trats wiped one eye with the heel of her free hand. “I am sorry, really. I was so scared.”
Frannie put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It’s all over now. We’re glad she’s back safe and sound.”
Larry and the others now joined Frannie. They made sounds of welcome to Taylor. Mrs. Trats nudged her daughter.
“Mr. Shoemaker?” Taylor said hesitantly. “I promise I won’t ride my bike any more.”
Larry shook his head. “That isn’t necessary. If you’re still camping tomorrow, how about if I help you learn to ride it without the training wheels?”
“Larry!” Frannie admonished. “It’s none of your...”
“That would be great,” Mr
s. Trats said. “Taylor is supposed to have school, but I’m not going to send her back until Tuesday.” Frannie the teacher almost protested, but kept her mouth shut. Taylor probably needed a little down time with her mother.
Sanchez stepped forward. “We’re going to take her to the ER for a checkover, just to make sure she’s fine. But they wanted to thank you for all you did. If you’re still up, I’ll stop back when they’re done.” He turned and helped them back into the car. Taylor turned back and gave a little wave, the other hand clutching her blanket around her. Sanchez pulled out and they returned to their chairs.
“So, I assume Taylor was in the back of the van?” Frannie said to Larry.
“Yeah, I had to get the keys from the front, and by the time I got the cargo doors unlocked, Sanchez and Bonnaman were back there too. Probably a good thing; if it was just me, it would have confirmed her worst fears.” He got up and adjusted one of the logs. Mickey was uncharacteristically disinterested in the fire and stared off into the darkness surrounding the campsite.
“How did you get separated from Larry?” Frannie asked Jane Ann.
“He went up to check the van. We had seen Maddie Sloan run down one of the lanes after Reid. So I thought I would find you guys. I came around a corner and ran smack into him. He had that knife right in my face and a pretty desperate look on his face.” She shuddered and hunched further into her jacket. “Were you in the back of the yard?”
Frannie nodded. “We climbed up in the cab of an old combine and could see quite a bit. I thought maybe we could spot where everyone was but that didn’t really work out. Reid came right by us but he didn’t look up and see us. It was a little tense there for a minute, though, wasn’t it, Mick?” She looked over at Mickey when he didn’t reply. “Mickey? What’s the matter?”
Mickey was looking a little sour and holding his stomach. “Indigestion I think. Maybe my supper didn’t set well with the events of the evening.” He spoke softer than usual.
Jane Ann sat up in her chair, peering at him. “Do you feel okay otherwise?”
“My shoulder hurts a little.”
Jane Ann jumped up and rushed over to him. “Your left shoulder?”
“Yeah...not a big deal.”
“Larry,” Jane Ann looked up, pulled out her phone and thrust it at Larry. “Call 911 for an ambulance!”
“What? What is it?”
“I don’t know, but it could be a heart attack. I’m not taking any chances.”
“It’s not a heart attack...” Mickey protested but his wife interrupted him.
“How do you know? You’re no expert.”
“But an ambulance?”
“We currently have no wheels, remember? Unless you want to drive the Rocket around the countryside looking for the nearest hospital, because none of us know where it is. So just shut up. Frannie, can you get me an aspirin?”
Frannie ran to the trailer. Larry was giving the dispatcher their location and campsite number. When Frannie returned, Jane Ann was on the phone with the dispatcher. She excused herself for a moment and covered the mouthpiece.
“Give him one—and he has to chew it—no water,” she instructed and went back to the phone.
“No water?” Mickey protested. Jane Ann’s look ended the rebellion.
Larry meanwhile, had called the ranger. She arrived and parked her truck across the road in an empty campsite.
“I hope you weren’t planning a quiet evening with a book,” Mickey said to her, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Mickey!” Jane Ann said. “For once, stay quiet.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Sommers asked.
“Frannie and I will probably need a ride to the hospital,” Larry said. “Our truck is in the ditch—I think the sheriff was going to see about getting someone to tow it, but right now we have no transportation.”
Sommers nodded. “It’s the least I can do.”
Frannie had fetched a blanket to cover Mickey while Jane Ann monitored his pulse. In the distance they could hear a siren approaching.
“Where will they take him?” Frannie asked Sommers. “Where’s the nearest hospital?” She felt almost betrayed. All the worry all weekend about the kids and Taylor finally lifted and now this. But she knew it wasn’t about her this time—it was about Mickey and Jane Ann. She kept a close eye on Jane Ann, whose demeanor seemed unshakeable.
“Probably the county hospital.”
Finally, flashing lights bounced through the trees and the ambulance was there. EMTs jumped out and surrounded Mickey. A gurney was produced and wheeled over the rough ground to Mickey’s lawn chair. Jane Ann quietly and efficiently filled the EMTs in while they lifted him to the gurney and then loaded him in the back of the ambulance. Larry followed Jane Ann, hugging her, and informed her they would be following with Ranger Sommers. She climbed in beside Mickey; the doors closed and the wailing siren cut the night again.
****************
Happy Camper Tip #16
There are some special camping accoutrements that turn out to be very useful. An old ratty parka stored under the bed is handy for those Midwestern spring and fall nights when Mother Nature decides to crack a record or two. Leather BBQ gloves are a real plus working around the grill—one pair can even be shared. Electric skillets can be used inside or out for everything from a full breakfast to a pot roast or baking a cake. Rice bags—or bed buddies, or whatever name you prefer—are a real plus when camping. They are the cloth bags filled with rice, oats, cherry pits, or some other substance that can be heated in the microwave and used on sore muscles or other aches. A good comfortable lawn chair is an absolute must. Inflatable ice buckets take little space and are great to chill the wine. And there are times that an inflatable hot tub would be really nice to have.
Chapter Seventeen
Late Sunday Night And Monday Morning
The contrast between the dark, dangerous junkyard where they had spent the first half of the evening and the bright, sterile hospital waiting room was almost too much for Frannie’s system to handle. This hospital had not yet been ‘updated’ with expensive artwork, new carpet and furniture to the corporate look that many medical services had taken on.
She and Larry had been sitting on utilitarian chrome and vinyl chairs for about two hours. They had scanned all of the old magazines, drank stale coffee, and watched close-captioned news on the muted TV, but had not heard yet from Jane Ann. Sommers had updated Sanchez and he had stopped by to tell them that Taylor was fine physically and they would be returning to the campground.
Larry leaned back in his chair and rested his head against the wall while Frannie fidgeted. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. The silence in the waiting room seemed to consume the very subdued middle-of-the-night hospital noises in the background. Frannie got up and went to the restroom. When she came back out, she walked over to a large window and looked out over the city. A door closed behind her. She turned to see Jane Ann coming toward them.
Frannie couldn’t read her face. Jane Ann dropped in the chair Frannie had vacated, jolting Larry awake. Frannie sat on her other side and took her hand.
“What is it? How is he?” she said softly.
The tears streamed down Jane Ann’s face. Frannie realized that although she had seen her sister-in-law in a lot of tough situations, she had never seen her cry like this.
Jane Ann tried to speak, but gulped several times. Larry slipped his arm around her shoulders and she dropped her head against him. She sat up again and took a deep breath.
“He has an ulcer,” she finally managed to get out.
“What?” Frannie said. “But that’s good, isn’t it? I mean, more treatable than a heart attack, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jane Ann got out a smile through her tears. “They’ll put him on antibiotics for a while but think he’ll do okay. That doesn’t mean that he isn’t at risk, of course. I was just so afraid—I really didn’t think he’d make it—you know he’s never had the healt
hiest life-style. And the indigestion combined with the shoulder pain...”
“But what about his shoulder?” Larry asked.
“He bruised it when Frannie pushed him down.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Frannie said.
“No, no,” Jane Ann put her other hand over Frannie’s. “Like you said, it was his shoulder or my throat!”
“So are they going to keep him overnight?” Larry said.
“No,” Jane Ann said. “They said he’d be ready to go soon. That’s what I was wondering—how are we going to get back?”
“Sanchez said to call him whenever we needed a ride,” Larry said.
“Okay, I’ll go see how long they think it will be. I believe we’re all past ready for bed!”
“So true,” Larry agreed, pulling out his phone.
By the time they wheeled out a sheepish but tired-looking Mickey, Sanchez had returned to the hospital and came in to collect them. He shuttled them back to the campground listening attentively to Jane Ann’s medical report on Mickey. When they arrived at their site, he thanked them profusely for their help in the case. He stood by to help while Jane Ann got Mickey to the camper and promised to return in the morning.
Larry went to the door of the Ferraros’ camper.
“Have you got your phone handy, Jane Ann?”
She came to the door. “Yes, why?”
“Just keep it near you tonight and if you need anything, call.”
“Yessir, but I suspect we will both sleep like the dead.”
“Don’t say that. Good night, sleep tight.”
“You too,” She smiled weakly and closed the door.
The next morning, Frannie barely remembered entering their own trailer and getting into bed. She had no idea if it took her more than two minutes to fall asleep, if she got up in the night, or if she tossed and turned at all. By the time she woke, even Larry was up and must have taken the coffee pot out as well. As she dressed, she could hear voices out around the fire. Mickey and Jane Ann must also be up.
She was surprised as she stepped outside at the warmth of the outside air. No wind to speak of and sunny skies helped tremendously. Around the fire, Larry and Mickey visited with Agent Sanchez—no sign of Jane Ann.
The Blue Coyote (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 2) Page 16
